This is a description for Big Boy Burgundy: Blind Alley, written by Dyane Forde. The short can be found in Breakwater Harbor Books' newly released anthology, Gateways!

Big Boy Burgundy: Blind Alley is actually the third installment of a serialized story. It has been modified to become a standalone piece in order to meet the requirements of this anthology. Fun facts:  a writer friend inspired the story by providing me the prompt words burgundy, mycotoxins,

​and ​

manhunt. That friend was amused 

to learn

that, like him, Burgundy is big and bald,

and​

owns a .500 magnum Smith & Wesson and a muscle car.


In the section presented, Burgundy has joined forces with Leila, a tough, smart hacker who’s as adept with punch-kick combinations as she is with a blaster. Though totally different, the two have come to respect one another, and have come to the point of gaining proof that Burgundy was framed for the governor’s murder. Of course, that doesn’t stop something unexpected from coming into the picture and tugging at Burgundy’s taut heart strings…​



An excerpt......
Big Boy Burgundy: Blind Alley

 

Leila shut off the hover car. The compressed air under it slowly thinned, lowering the vehicle until it came to rest on the pavement. Burgundy threw open the door and unfolded himself until he was standing on the curb.

“I hate small cars.” He said small cars like it was a cuss word. “And I hate hover cars more. Can’t feel the road, can’t even sense how fast you’re going.” He vigorously rubbed the muscles in his back and neck.

“They’re an improvement over the stinky, gas-guzzling abominations of the past. You know, the ones that wrecked the planet.” Leila pressed a hand to a panel, locking the nondescript, energy efficient car. Burgundy scowled at the slight to his beloved Shelby—the gorgeously curved metal lady he’d wrecked in a high speed chase the week before.

“Yeah, well, this bloody thing doesn’t even make any noise! You can’t even call it a car.”

“You’re right. It’s a hover car.”

Burgundy scowled again, but he was glad Leila was comfortable with computers and anything tech. It made things easier for him since he couldn’t stand the faceless machines that computed everything from key strokes, to how much food you ordered from the dispensers in the market, to dosing medicine in the pharmacy. Even how many squares of toilet paper you used to wipe your ass. Damned control freaks!

“I still say it’s creepy that the thing drives itself.”

“It’s a Smart Car, newest model out there.”

“So now they’re making cars that are smarter than people.”

“No, smarter than you. Because you refuse to use GPS, if you’d been driving, you would’ve gotten us lost four times over before finding this place.” Leila snapped on leather gloves and reset the skull cap over her straight, dark hair.

“Funny.”

“You ready?” Leila pulled her blaster from her hip holster and placed her thumb on the micro screen. The minicomputer inside recognized her DNA. A blue line etched along the side of the barrel, signalling it was charged and ready to go. With a finger, she nudged a nearby tab, and the blue streak changed to green. The blaster was set to kill.

Burgundy grunted. He slid Big Boy from its holster and tilted it so the barrel and chamber glinted in the lamplight. The hard rubber handle of the .500 magnum Smith and Wesson rested comfortably in his hand. The feel of the grip was as familiar to him as the creases in his favorite leather jacket. Was he ready? “Hell, yeah.”

Burgundy started to rise from a crouched position to slide along the alley wall to the building situated at its end when Leila checked him by clearing her throat.

“One thing. Don’t do anything stupid this time.”

“This time?” Annoyance crept into his voice. Not because of what she had said, but because she was right.

With one hand, Leila reached up and pulled on the edge of his black jacket to bring him back down to eye level. Of all the women in the world, only she had the balls to drag this mountain of a man back to the ground.

“Look, Burgundy. I get it. You’re big and strong, and damn brave, too, I’ll give you that. After working together over the last few weeks, I figure there’s no one else I’d rather barge into an unfamiliar building with. You’re good with a gun and can turn anyone into a New City pretzel faster than that vendor on the corner of Eight and River. I know you don’t think you’ve got much up there--” here, she tapped him lightly on the forehead, “but that’s not true. You just have to take a second to think before dashing off into unknown territory. As much as improvising can get you out of a tough spot, it can also get you killed.”

Burgundy brushed her hand aside and stood up. He tugged on the front panels of his jacket with both hands, snapping the leather to straighten them out. “Thinking isn’t my thing. Shooting shit up with Big Boy and wrecking stuff with my bare hands, on the other hand--”

This is a description for Lethal Black Book, written by Melissa Simonson. The short can be found in Breakwater Harbor Books' newly released anthology, Gateways!

Chelsea George is an oblique but important character in Pretty Waste.  Dead long before the start of the novel, her role is that of narrator.  Her attitude isn’t what anyone would consider sweet or pleasant—it’s rare for Chelsea to have a nice word about anyone, but she shares a special sort of aversion for one character in particular.  In this short story, you’ll learn more about the why. 

An excerpt...

Youthful beginnings. They’re less aww-inspiring when you’re dead.
 
 
The woman sitting beside me isn’t someone I’ve met, but I still recognize her.  And what she’s doing.  Ever heard of the phrase two whores is too many?
Didn’t think so.  I just made it up.  Not one of my best.  And I was feeling so quippy yesterday. 
She’s pretending she can’t hear my delicate little ahems.  Maybe she’s deaf.  With earrings that look like doorknockers, I suspect all sorts of ear-related havoc is afoot. 
“You’re poaching,” I tell her.  Loudly. 
Suddenly her hearing works, and she looks me full in the face.  “Excuse me?”
“Yes, you’re excused.”  I hook a thumb toward the exit.  “Try across the street.”  And good luck with that.  This is the only bar around that doesn’t card religiously.  My fake I.D. puts my age at twenty-one, three years off the mark, and I doubt she’s much older than me.
She flicks a brown wisp of hair off her forehead and gives me a look of phony bewilderment.  Who, me?  Whatever do you mean? I love this dive.
“I’m sure you’re a swell person, but I don’t need another distraction hanging around.”  I point at the TVs in the corners of the bar and sweep the rest of the place with a hair flip.  “I didn’t come to a sports bar to watch the Mets get their ass kicked.  These tards can hardly take their eyes off the game.  When they finally come up for air I’d prefer to not watch them have an internal struggle over whether they prefer blondes or brunettes.”
Too many options would be confusing.  Hello, I’ve got rent to pay. 
“Blonde?”  She laughs, fingers her godawful earrings, and turns back to the television.  “That’s the brassiest blonde I’ve ever seen.  Steer clear of the drag queen salons.  They’re not your friends if they send you off like that.”

This is a description for Arrival by Ted Cross. The short can be found in Breakwater Harbor Books' newly released anthology, Gateways!

“Arrival” is a story that bridges Ted Cross’ first two novels--The Immortality Game and The Shard—and it shares characters that appear in both novels. How does a cyberpunk thriller sit within the same universe as a traditional epic fantasy?
 
It started with a red moon. Made of an element not found in Earth’s solar system, this moon circled one of the nearest habitable planets to Earth. One of the effects of this unusual element is that people on Earth, depending on their level of attunement to the element’s power, can sometimes have visions of life on the moon’s world. Thus many tales and legends of Earth were not actually made up, but were instead visions or dreams that some people had. Those who are strongly attuned—Professor Tolkien, for example—have visions in much greater detail. His elves and other fantastical creatures are not exactly like those on the far planet, but they are close enough.
 
In The Immortality Game we meet a group of scientists that loves playing a virtual reality fantasy game and plans on being the first colonists to a recently discovered habitable world. They have no idea that when they arrive on that world they will find a real-life version of their favorite game, or that those very tales that they loved so much are in fact based upon life on this world.

An excerpt... For more download 'Gateways' for FREE in eBook on Amazon today!

ARRIVAL
By Ted A. Cross
           
Zoya first heard a faint beeping sound that slowly grew louder as her mind struggled toward consciousness.  She considered opening her eyes to search out the source of the annoying beep, but reconsidered when she realized how oddly her body felt.  In her mind she reached out to her limbs, her stomach, her beating heart, trying to understand what was different.  Her body felt pristine and full of energy, making her feel as if she had been exhausted for years without her truly knowing it.  She couldn’t recall ever feeling so refreshed.
Now she opened her eyes and blinked in what at first seemed the harsh glare of white lights, though after a few moments her eyes adjusted and the lights turned out to be standard panel lighting in the ceiling.  A few inches above her face, a cocoon of thick glass was hazy with the mist of her breath.  She reached up to touch the glass as if she wasn’t certain it was really there.  A green light above the glass near her head blinked in time with the beeping noise.  The glass coffin—as she decided to think of it—smelled faintly of chemicals.
She pushed up on the glass and was surprised to hear a mechanical whirring as the glass rose up and to the left along one edge, finally coming to rest in a perpendicular position.  At the same time, she felt something detach itself from the slot interface behind her left ear.  Zoya coughed and pushed herself to a sitting position.  Good God, she thought.  What the hell is this place?...

A healer must mend a fractured kingdom and bring two enemy races together before a greater enemy destroys them both.

Fate took Prince Maryn by surprise, leaving Celdrya to tear itself apart. A century later an army amasses against the warring remains of the kingdom as prophesy sends a half-elven healer on a journey to find the nameless True King. Padraig lacks the power to put the True King on the throne, yet compelled by forces greater than himself, Padraig contends with dark mages, Celtic goddesses, human factions and the ancient animosities of two peoples while seeking a myth. With all that distraction, a man might meet the True King and not recognize him.


Check this fantastic debut release out now on Amazon!

Lela Markham is the pen name of an Alaskan novelist who was raised in a home built of books. Alaska is a grand adventure like none other with a culture that embraces summer adventure and winter artist pursuits. Lela has been a journalist, worked in the mental health field and currently works for the State of Alaska, but her avocation has always been storyteller.

Her first published book, The Willow Branch, begins an exploration of the world of Daermad where a fractured kingdom leaves two races vulnerable to destruction by a third and opens the opportunity to mend old wounds. Lela drew inspiration from Celtic mythology, Alaskan raven legends and the Bible to craft a tale of war, faith and reconciliation. And, don’t forget … Celtic goddesses, sentient animals and dragons. Lela shares her life with her adventuresome husband and two fearless offspring and a sentient husky who keeps a yellow Lab as a pet.

aurorawatcherak@wordpress.com

thewillowbranch@wordpress.com

The quest to secure the Firelord's Legacy and avert the danger brought about by Raethwin's battle with Maegror continues. Corinius, Heir to the throne of the Severed Kingdoms, has been uncovered as a traitor. His plot to assassinate his uncle and seize the mysterious Sword of Mandarian has been foiled but he has escaped, taking with him Darial, the true Heir, and Lady Ystaria. Falath and Mirin are finally reunited and sent in pursuit by Guild Master Tamilin. Their goal is the King's Circle in the far north, where Mandarian's Sword is kept within the sacred embrace of Flavia, Mistress of the Second Ship. They must get there before Corinius frees the Sword and uses its power to claim dominion over them all. King's Circle, however, lies in Ancient Nerieth, abandoned to the Yrstag and under enemy control. To gain the sword, and its piece of the Firelord's Crown, Falath and Mirin must use their developing powers of sorcery to battle new foes and strange magicks. Only then can the Firelord's Wyrd be fulfilled.